


After practice

by kunimisbangs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Atsumu third year, Explicit Sexual Content, First Meet, Goshiki is Baby, Goshiki second year, M/M, Mentions of Osamu and Sakusa if you squint, Rare Pair, Third years at Youth training camp, random work, slow burn kinda, youth training camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26275885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunimisbangs/pseuds/kunimisbangs
Summary: "I hope you've still got some of that energy left, Goshiki-kun, because if I set for you tomorrow, I'll expect nothing less," he said matter-of-fact. "I don't like players who suck."Tsutomu went stiff. He froze at the insult, but his blood was boiling hot in his veins, spreading in his cheeks. After a pause of just looking at each other, he nodded sharply, and just like that, the fire in his eyes was back. "Of course. You can count on me."Goshiki and Atsumu meet at the Youth training camp. They get along a little better than Goshiki ever expected.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Goshiki Tsutomu
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	1. 1

"Forty-three... Forty-four....Forty-five.." Komori dragged lazily, his hands rested in his lap between his crossed legs as he watched Goshiki perform his press-ups.

Hoshiumi cackled next to him when Goshiki failed to push himself up again, his already smug grin growing wider. The boy's face was contorted in a mixed expression of pain and effort, forearms shaking as he struggled to stay still, and Komori would be lying if he said he didn't want to laugh, too.

"Forty-five...", he repeated unhelpfully and Goshiki yelled out in frustration, the last bit of his energy leaving him with the noise before he finally fell back on the ground. He looked miserable, and Komori couldn't help but chuckle.

"Give me two minutes, I can go again." Goshiki was breathless, but he looked dead serious, practically enraged.

During the first two days of the U19 training camp, all of the boys had come to learn three things about Goshiki Tsutomu: he had ambition, he was as competitive as one could be, and he never ever gave up. This was once again proven true now as he laid face down on the floor, sweaty and clearly exhausted, but eager to continue nonetheless.

Practice had been over since 4pm, but the three boys were still in the gym after hours. It all started when Goshiki had valiantly challenged Hoshiumi into a competition to see which of them was stronger. They might as well have lowered their shorts and compared their dicks' sizes. An hour and a half later, Komori felt like he had lost two years of his life, and the results were clear: Hoshiumi was the proud winner. It was not up for debate: he had excelled in all of the exercices and crushed the other into defeat.

"Come on man, you're gonna strain a muscle. You've already proven you're just as good as him.", he said softly. That was a lie, but stroking the young boy's ego was his last hope at getting out of this hell hole. So he was at least going to do it right. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you two are the same age." A flash of pride shone in Goshiki's eyes for a moment but it vanished when Hoshiumi cackled again, quickly getting replaced by a scowl.

"Yeah, sure you would." Kourai purred, sliding a mocking look towards Komori before eyeing down the dark haired boy, who sat up under the sly gaze and clenched his fists.

"This isn't over yet. Komori-san, give m-"

"Let's go", he cut him off, already on his feet. Hoshiumi immediately followed and stood up smoothly, looking a lot less like a tired mess than their campmate on the floor "I want to take my bath before dinner and go to sleep early tonight." A pause, a glance towards Goshiki before he added "Tsutomu, I think you should, too."

Once again, Kourai's laugh filled the large room and Tsutomu looked downright infuriated as he got up from the ground and huffed out. He quickly wiped off his kneecaps and thighs before following the two boys towards the exit, keeping his eyes down. 

It's not so much that he hated to lose, Goshiki thought. He just loved winning. He thought he loved it so much that he must've gotten addicted. Addicted to the point of losing sleep over it, letting it dictate his actions and consume his social life, like a fiend.

Since he was a little kid, he was at his best when he was being praised, or when he could read admiration in people's eyes, or feel the more quiet satisfaction of his parents when he came back with a good grade from school. "'Teacher said mine was the best evaluation she'd read", he'd say, his mother would smile warmly, his father briefly glance away from his paper to nod once, and Tsutomu would be absolutely thriving.

The years he spent in middle school were easily the best years of his life so far. He was his volleyball team's ace, the one who brought the others to victory. He felt like a prodigy within the other students, and he fed on that honor constantly. The problem when your ego becomes so big and your expectations fly that high, is that the fall from all the way up there is inevitably painful.

Goshiki's downfall started when he got accepted in the Shiratorizawa Academy in high school. It was an amazing opportunity, he knew, to be playing alongside such talented teammates, but the reality check had felt worse than a slap on the face. He went from being his school's official champion and hero, to an annoying and too ambitious rookie. Well, that wasn't exactly true, he still got to play on the front line in his first year, which isn't to be taken lightly in a team like Shiratorizawa. But he still couldn't compare to Ushijima Wakatochi: taller, bigger, better, and one of the three best spikers of all Japan. 

It was his second year of high school now and Ushijima was gone, but the pressure was still present in Tsutomu's mind: he needed to catch up, he needed to be better. He needed to be the best.

It didn't matter that he was already better than most and that anybody would be happy to reach his level at that age. This time it didn't matter if his parents were proud. It didn't matter if his teammates repeated over and over again that this was just an unattainable dream and nothing but a childish whim, he would only practice harder and harder until he succeeded. No one was going to stop him, and definitely not that little voice in his head telling him he'll never be good enough.

The same challenges awaited him at the All youth Japan training camp where he'd been invited. Wakatochi might not be there, but now he was facing Sakusa Kyoomi, and Hoshiumi Kourai. And Kageyama Tobio. And Komori. And basically everyone in the camp. 

The first day had been hard, but maybe that was only because of his tendency to always make a big deal out of the smallest inconveniences. Or maybe because he'd ridiculed himself in front of Hoshiumi within 24 hours of knowing him. Alright, so maybe Goshiki did hate to lose.

With all those thoughts in mind, after taking his bath and eating like his older campmate had suggested, Goshiki tried to put himself to sleep. His eyes were closed, his body was still, but his mind never really rested.  
...........

"Miya nice serve!" Atsumu grinned as he heard those words spoken by a number of boys on his team, along with a few stifled whistles from his opponents. His first service ace of the day always put him in a good mood.

He took his time as he grabbed a new ball, holding it to his side while he walked back in front of the net, thoroughly enjoying the attention he was receiving. He liked that moment, when everybody held their breath and all eyes were on him. He paused before throwing the ball high in the air, his fingers touching as he joined his hands for a second before he ran forward a few steps, pressed the plants of his feet against the floor and jumped. It was like time had stopped when his eyes caught the ball and he spiked it on the other side of the net. A loud SMACK was heard, followed by a satisfying thud.

Was an orgasm better than this feeling right there? Atsumu couldn't tell. 

His feet touched the ground after the ball, he thought, and he casually lifted his chin, looking down at his opponents with a beaming smile. "That's two in a row. Can't get your legs to move, guys? C'mon, don't make this boring for me." He teased, catching the ball that Kageyama sent his way with a short chuckle. 

Shut up and serve, Miya-san. He could almost hear him think. 

He hadn't liked Tobio that much when he'd first met him the year before. He was the new hot shot setter from that new famous hot shot team that had somehow managed to beat Shiratorizawa. Atsumu had expected him to be pretentious about it, like himself would have been, but Kageyama was quiet, face always closed off in a bored or just highly unimpressed expression. All the questions he was asked by the other players were answered with an attitude he couldn't quite pinpoint. He wasn't impolite, but just naturally confident and painfully honest. It was irritating. Interestingly enough, that attitude disappeared when he was on the field and he suddenly became... easy. He was great, sure, but he didn't do anything unexpected, ever. He didn't try to push the other players' limits or try new tricks: he nicely adapted his sets for the spikers, and that was it. A sweet Goody Two Shoes, Atsumu had called him, mainly to see if he could get a reaction from the cold boy. It didn't disappoint, Tobio looked like he'd been just punched in the stomach.

A year after, Inarizaki had lost against Karasuno at nationals, and if Atsumu wanted nothing but revenge, he still respected Kageyama. He wouldn't go as far as call them friends, but it felt nice setting for him. After all, he was undoubtedly good. And he played with shorty redhead Shoyo. That was enough to earn his attention.

He glanced at the black haired boy and nodded his head once as a little thank you for the ball. He repeated his actions, throwing the ball in the air, leaping and spiking. 

His eyes followed the object as it went down in a quiet woosh and he watched it hit the libero's shoulder before flying to the right and bouncing on the floor, far out of the court. Said libero grunted a "Sorry" to his teammates, glaring hard at the ball. Unlike during the first two services, he had moved, but not fast enough to receive it properly.

He was not a real libero, Atsumu immediately figured. He knew the coaches at the training camp liked testing the new comers' abilities this way: put them on different positions in the court, and watch them try to adapt. 

He had never seen this guy before, but his shirt read 'Shiratorizawa Academy' and unless their performance level had considerably dipped within the two years he hadn't seen them play, he was going to assume that the true libero of that team was still good enough to receive at least one of three of his services. Hence why it couldn't be the bowl haircut dude. Hence why he must've been unluckily forced to play there when it was Atsumu's turn to serve.

"It's okay, Goshiki, you'll get the next one!"

Atsumu thought it was kind of unfair of 'Goshiki''s teammates to let him handle this all on his own. They also had arms and legs to catch that ball, but he understood their tactic. Atsumu's team was undoubtedly stronger: he had Kageyama, Komori AND Sakusa on his side; which made the opponents' chances to win close to minus a hundred percent. They were going to need the skills of all of their players to at least put up a fight, and that would not be possible if one of the spikers or blockers was late from sending back Atsumu's serves. Hence why they weren't moving their asses to receive the ball. Hence why the responsibility fell on the bowl haircut dude.

Atsumu wasn't about to complain. He'd never scored 25 points of service aces before but there was a first time for everything, and the idea brought a big grin to his face. 

He caught another ball thrown by the ball boy this time and subtly showed off by making it spin around on the tip of his index finger before holding it between his two hands. That was a little trick he'd learned and practiced for with Osamu during the summer. Now that it worked perfectly, it was impossible to tell it had taken approximately a hundred and fourteen tries before it stopped slipping off his finger every ten seconds.

He jumped again, served, and this time Goshiki clumsily but successfully made the ball bounce on his arms, up to his teammates. Atsumu didn't have time to dwell on the boy's victory, his eyes following the object with the precision of a cat. On the court, he liked to think that he was like an animal, and despite what his twin brother said, it was one more dangerous than a rat.

Despite his efforts, the opposite team finally managed to take a point. He heard the ball hit the floor behind him and winced slightly. They weren't THAT bad, he supposed. It was their turn to serve, and as his opponent bounced the ball on the floor, he allowed his eyes to check out the rest of the team while getting into position. They were all hunched over, focused. Eyes intense. 

He took a deep breath, and started counting. He was aware that there were six of them on the other side of the net, but it had become a secret tradition for Atsumu to count the number of players he was up against before a play. It allowed him to concentrate, and relax. 

One, dark hair and fringe. Two, broad shoulders. Three, dark hair and quiff.

Four. 

Atsumu's eyebrows raised. Four, libero, bowl hair cut, and a heavy glare targeting him. Goshiki was staring at him from the back row, and if Atsumu felt like a fox, this guy was like a fire-lit match. His eyebrows were furrowed in determination, cheekbones pink and jaw clenched tightly. 

Seeing the pride in those eyes was like looking in the mirror for Atsumu, and something in his gut twisted.

He didn't realize the ball had moved until his teammate yelled at him to get his head in the game.  
.................

"So, being a libero's not yer thing, huh?"

Goshiki and Komori's heads snapped up. They were stretching on the floor with their legs spread out, fingertips reaching their toes. 

Atsumu was currently standing over them, infamous fox-like grin plastered on his face.

"Miya," Komori groaned, eyes worryingly flicking towards Tsutomu, whose jaw was once again tight. Atsumu seemed to have that kind of power on people. 

"What's up, Toya-kun?"

Komori snorted. "What'd you just call me?" Atsumu seemed to have the habit of giving everybody terrible nicknames.

"Where's Kiyoomi? I thought you guys were like," he brought two of his fingers together in a scissor-like motion, "that. Did ya trade him for a better friend?"

Motoya rolled his eyes, changing his position on the ground to stretch his legs further. There was a little grin playing on his lips. Sure, it was common knowledge that Atsumu was a little shit, but he was above that. If anything, conversations with the blonde were often entertaining.

"He's taking his bath. Did you come here to stretch with us or for the sole purpose of annoying Goshiki?" 

The latter's head snapped up again, eyes wide as he watched the interaction silently, one of his knees now bent up and pressed against his chest.

"What?" Atsumu defended, dropping on the floor and mimicking Goshiki's position. He glanced at the dark haired boy, who straightened under the gaze. "I was just sayin'. I know talent when I see it, and this morning was definitely not it." 

"I'm Shiratorizawa's ace!" Tsutomu spat out, his voice a little too loud for the currently quiet gym.

"Ah, is that so? I should have figured that much. You spike pretty hard. Ya got a lot of pent up rage?"

"Excuse me?"

"Miya." Motoya groaned.

"'Yes, Toya-kun?"

A glare was all Atsumu got in return and he chuckled, dismissing it to focus on what he came for.

"I hope you've still got some of that energy left, Goshiki-kun, because if I set for you tomorrow, I'll expect nothing less," he said matter-of-fact. "I don't like players who suck."

Tsutomu went stiff. He froze at the insult, but his blood was boiling hot in his veins, spreading in his cheeks. After a pause of just looking at each other, he nodded sharply, and just like that, the fire in his eyes was back. "Of course. You can count on me."

Atsumu's lips parted into a bright smile. He held out his hand, and as Goshiki clasped it vigorously, he introduced himself "Miya Atsumu."

"Goshiki Tsutomu."

In no way interested in this interaction, Komori sat back up and stretched his arms over his head once more until his back made a satisfying pop sound and he stood in one smooth motion. His stomach was rumbling. 

Usually, he'd wait for Sakusa to eat dinner when they were at camp together, but his younger cousin had said he was concerned about his elbow today. Apparently, it 'got bumped by a ball at practice, and had felt tense ever since'. Motoya knew what that meant: Kiyoomi, obsessive as he was, would spend extra time in the bathroom just extending and bending his arm, over and over again, to test said elbow. Then he would dress up. But the paranoia would strike again at that point, and another set of frankly ridiculous exercises would follow. Long story short: he would make Komori wait.

Komori had suffered through the exact same thing last year, except it'd been his shoulder Sakusa was worried about that time. He had even gone as far as ask one of the coaches for an extra pillow and slept with his shoulder rested on it all night, in a freakishly still position. Sakusa Kiyoomi was Motoya's cousin and possibly his best friend in the entire world, but he was also an insufferable hypochondriac germaphobe, and he learned that this meant they couldn't always do everything together. This included having dinner during training camps.

He briefly considered eating by himself or finding Kageyama or Hoshiumi to sit with, but despite being questionable, company was already right there, so he breathed out: "I'm done here. You guys wanna eat?"

..............

Goshiki had heard about Miya Atsumu before, of course he had. But he was still caught off guard.

He'd sat beside his older teammate Tendou on several occasions to watch games that involved Atsumu's team, Inarizaki. The Miya twins were practically celebrities. Every time they walked into a gym, people would instantly go crazy, and sure, the cheers and applauses were directed towards the entire team, but a lot of the fans were bearing signs reading the Miya's names, along with words of encouragement. 

The crowd loved the brothers. 

Goshiki could understand why. They were amazing. "Irritating would be a better word for it, if you asked me" Tendou had said when Goshiki told him so. 

"Why irritating?"

Before he could answer, Tendou's hand was curling tightly around the edge of the table as he watched number 7, Goshiki couldn't quite tell them apart yet in that moment but he easily recognized it was one of the twins, set the ball. Everything happened in the speed of a single heartbeat. Number 11 was already in the air before anybody could fully register what was happening and when he smashed the ball over the net, Goshiki's jaw dropped.

He'd only seen a quick like this once before in his life, and the Miyas had just stolen it from their opponents, only a few minutes after having witnessed it for the first time. The camera zoomed in on number 7 and the boy's shit eating grin was so wide it reached his ears.

"Never mind," Tsutomu had mumbled, "I got it."

Goshiki was aware that Atsumu was a dangerous player, and he'd heard stories about his questionable personality. Tendou and Semi said he was annoying, Leon told him he was condescending, Shirabu thought he was vain and Ushijima, who actually spent some time with him at a training camp, stayed neutral about the boy, but did mention that he had a terrible sense of humor.

Goshiki was still caught by surprise by the older boy's shining personality.

He blinked once as Atsumu's laugh resonated in the room. 

It was his third day at the training camp and he was once again practicing for an extra hour at the gym, which was empty except for himself and the extravagant blonde with the undercut. 

They had gotten along great during dinner the day before. Goshiki had enjoyed talking to him, despite the few teasing comments that Atsumu sent his way with a sly grin. That was fine. He got a fair share of those from his teammates already, so he ignored them easily, using his pent up frustration as a fuel for his motivation. He would show him that he was good. He would show him that he was worthy of his sets.

Atsumu also seemed to be looking forward to playing with him, in his own way. He kept asking questions about his performance, how high could he jump, how did he like his sets, low or high, how far from the net, did he jump serve, or jump float or both and so on.

It was with a lot of enthusiasm that Goshiki started his first game in the morning with Atsumu by his side. They shared a smile, and then went to work. Atsumu was a fantastic setter. He wouldn't admit it if he asked, but Goshiki admired him. The moment he saw the ball fly his way, high, precisely close to the net, perfect for a line shot, his eyes shone with excitement. Was Shirabu that good? Had the ball ever seemed so easy to reach? 

They won all six of the matches that they played together that day, and Goshiki felt great. They say third time's a charm, that was true: his third day here was his best day yet for sure.

It was during lunch break that the setter had approached him and suggested that they practiced after hours, because "Ya could use some help on those receives, Goshiki-chan" and Tsutomu didn't decline. After all, he had come to that training camp not only to prove his worth, but also to get better. What greater way was there to do that than with the best high school setter of the country?

So here he was, watching Miya Atsumu clenching his stomach with his two arms, head thrown back as he laughed at Goshiki's expense after the ball he so powerfully served bounced off the ground to hit Goshiki right in the face.

Blood rushed to his cheeks and he glared at the older boy, barely holding himself from flipping him off with the hand that wasn't currently cradling his nose in search for a possible misplaced bone. It felt okay. (It would bruise.)

"Ya know, some people say it's more effective to receive the ball with yer arms. But what do I know?" Atsumu offered sarcastically when his laughter died down, tone light as he bent down to step to the other side of the net, joining the raven, who was currently sporting a world class frown. "Let me see."

"Go to hell," Goshiki said, head snapping to the side so Atsumu's hand wouldn't reach his face.

"Come on, Goshiki-chan, just let me see, I'm not gonna bite ya. I just wanna see if ya need to be taken to the infirmary. My serve, my responsibility, after all. Right?" Atsumu insisted and Goshiki sighed as he turned his head towards him, partly because he knew the blonde wouldn't have given up until he did, he didn't seem like the type.

Atsumu stayed silent as he inspected Goshiki's nose. "This happened to me and my brother all the time when we were kids. Mind if I touch it for a sec?" He asked, his voice sounding softer than Goshiki had ever heard it before. He shrugged in response and the older boy's fingers raised to cradle his nose, like his own had just done. His touch felt cold, although maybe that was only because his own skin was burning hot at the moment.

Atsumu looked good on the screen of a phone or a computer. He looked good on the other side of the net, mid-air, spiking a volleyball. He looked radiant smiling at Goshiki beamingly after he'd just hit his set in a perfect line shot. 

Goshiki found that he looked even better up close, with his amber brown eyes focused and dyed hair disheveled from the effort.

He swallowed that thought down. It wasn't the time or the place for that, neither was it the right guy. He drifted his eyes away from the sharp jawline in front of him and forced out a little "Well?" 

The tips of Atsumu's fingers added a little bit of pressure on either side of his nose and Goshiki winced unpleasantly. The cool touch disappeared instantly and Atsumu took a half step back. "Mhm. It's gonna bruise alright, it might swell a little bit, but yer not dyin' yet. Relieved?"

Goshiki snorted and shrugged, looking off to the side. "Sure, but it'll look ridiculous tomorrow," he said, and started walking towards the ball to pick it up.

"Ya should ice it."

Goshiki stopped in his tracks and turned around. "Hm?"

"Ya should go to the infirmary and ice it. It'll reduce the swelling," Atsumu explained in a tone that suggested that it was obvious. He threw the dark haired boy another glance before making his own way towards the far end of the court to collect all the stray balls.

"But what about practice? I want to receive that serve!" Goshiki started, his voice getting louder as he watched Atsumu walking off on him "Properly! I just need one or two more tries, maximum. You know, there was another guy in Miyagi, Oikawa-san, you don't know him, he didn't go to nationals. Although he definitely could, well, he's not in high school anymore, but I played against him once at the Inter-High prelims, we beat him, and his serve was INSANE, Miya-san. In-sane. And I got it! Well, I got it once in the match really but mostly because most o-" 

"First of all," Atsumu cut him off after abruptly turning around, his arm raising as he pointed at him with the volleyball clutched tightly in his hand, "Don't ever compare my serves to some guy's who didn't make it to the Inter-High." He lowered his hand. "And second, this is non-negotiable. If ya leave yer nose like this ya'll end up looking like a clown by tomorrow. So just help me clean up and we'll be on our way."

"Right, sorry," Goshiki mumbled and rushed forward to help him. He supposed he could settle for receiving Atsumu's serves during real practice matches. 

They finished tidying up the room in under five minutes, and immediately went to the infirmary room. Three nurses were there during the day in case accidents happened, but now that practice was over, only one remained. When they stepped inside the small lobby, the friendly looking woman was sitting behind her desk, phone pressed against her ear. She looked up at the two boys and her eyebrows immediately raised at the sight of Tsutomu's already reddening nose as she gestured at them to sit. She would only be a minute. "Yes, Giyaju-san, I understand, but I already told you, as long as your son's ankle does not-"

Goshiki tuned off the conversation as he sat down in one of the chairs lined up against the wall, very aware of Atsumu's presence next to him. He tried to seem casual, his eyes scanning over the few posters plastered to the wall explaining the importance of stretching exercises before practice as well as the necessity of safe sex, without really seeing them.

As he expected, he could feel tension building up between them as silence drew on, making it difficult to wait. Every breath, every sigh, every twitch of a hand on a rested lap was calculated. Goshiki had to say something, anything, in a desperate hope to pop the awkward bubble that enveloped them both. When he allowed himself to throw a nervous glance towards Atsumu, he found that the older boy seemed rather relaxed, gaze set on the pamphlet laying on the low table in front of them. Say something.

"Do you come here often?" Goshiki blurted out, dread settling in his stomach as soon as the words left his mouth. 

A surprised chuckle erupted from Atsumu and one side of his mouth quirked up as he turned his head towards Goshiki, who could feel more blood rushing up, all over his face and lower in his neck. "I mean," he cleared his throat, head shaking quickly, "not like that. I mean the infirmary, you know, have you been there a lot? Have you ever gotten hurt?" 

He didn't know if Atsumu had ever suffered an injury, but Goshiki thought nothing could be more painful than this conversation.

The glint in Atsumu's honey eyes suggested he was dying to tease Goshiki about the little slip up, but he must have taken mercy on him, because he answered his question simply, although his grin did not waver. "No, I've never come here for myself. I did accompany another guy once though. He fractured his pinky trying to block Sakusa." 

Goshiki's lips formed a little "o" and he was about to ask another question, something along the lines of Speaking of, how well do you know Sakusa-san, but the nurse was quicker to the chase, her voice loud and clear in the quiet lobby as she called him over to the desk.

After inspecting his nose carefully like Atsumu had done before, the nurse took him briefly to the back room where all the beds and products were to apply some cream across the injury. It was supposed to help reduce the bruising, and she asked him to come back in the morning so she could give him more. After that, she gave him a small bag of ice to press on his nose, that he could throw away after it melted. She didn't seem eager to dismiss him, but perhaps she had better things to do than keep an eye on a teenager putting ice on his bruised up face. He was free to go.

Goshiki thanked her, twice, and held the ice against his nose as he went back to the lobby, Atsumu's fingers already wrapped around the knob. "All good?" 

"Yeah, thanks a lot, Miya-san," Goshiki offered as they stepped out of the infirmary one after the other. 

Atsumu didn't walk any further once they were back in the corridor, and his fingers enveloped Goshiki's wrist to hold him back. The boy froze before turning around in his grip, confusion dancing in his dark eyes "Uh, what are you doing?" 

"Lets stay here for a bit," Atsumu said, his lean body resting against the wall as he eyed Tsutomu, up and down, and up again. 

Goshiki's eyebrows rose. He thought he'd been enough of a burden for Atsumu these last few hours. He glanced at the end of the corridor and then back at Atsumu, quickly. "Why?" 

Atsumu let go of his wrist and shrugged, a slight twitch upwards of his shoulders "Because all of the common areas are filled with guys I don't wanna talk to right now and...", his lips curled up, voice laced with honey "I would ask you to share a bath with me but you're busy icing your nose. It's peaceful enough here."

Goshiki blinked and simply looked at the other, unmoving. He knew how to read under the lines; he'd been in this kind of situation before, more times than he'd like to admit, but this was Miya Atsumu, for heaven's sake. Surely he was reading this all wrong. Then Atsumu's eyes rolled slowly in exasperation, and suddenly the ice cold bag pressed to his face stopped being cool enough to keep his cheeks from burning. 

"Do ya really feel like going back to Hoshiumi and Natsuhiko and all of those other monkeys right now?" He raised an eyebrow. Atsumu could be...blunt. It seemed like he enjoyed their company when they were talking, but maybe that was just a facade. Or maybe Goshiki was overthinking too much and Atsumu really just wanted to enjoy ten more minutes of calmness. Perhaps. 

"Yeah okay," Goshiki breathed out, nodding his head once as he stepped next to the older boy, leaning into the wall right beside him. They were at an arm's length of each other. Atsumu turned his head.

"Are ya happy to be here?"

"Here with you, or here at the training camp?"

Goshiki caught the way Atsumu's teeth flashed in his smile from the corner of his eyes. He was facing the wall, very still. He knew he would be able to feel Atsumu's breath on his cheek if he so much as tilted his head towards him. 

"At the training camp. Ya seem motivated."

"Aren't we all?"

Another shoulder twitch.

"Some more than others. You...you're hungry for it." Atsumu was so blunt it stung. "But ya always look nervous. Are ya happy to be here?" he continued.

Goshiki burned to deny everything, but the older would know he was lying. "The competition's fierce," Goshiki admitted, and it felt weird on his tongue. "Aren't you ever scared? That...All your efforts, I don't know..Everything..just isn't enough?" He lowered the icepack, let himself turn his head, and Atsumu's exhale caressed his cheekbone. 

Atsumu blinked once before answering, expression blank. "No. I don't feel that way. I don't look at the competition. Why bother? I'm doing my own thing, and if I'm here today, then I'm probably doing it right. And I'll keep it that way." 

Goshiki parted his lips to say something, then closed them. It was hard to argue with that logic. Still, it didn't exactly ease the prickling anxiety sitting in the back of his mind. He didn't have the confidence to agree. Atsumu's voice rose again, a little lighter.

"And tell me something Goshiki-chan, those guys you're so jealous of, Ushijima-san, Sakusa-kun, ya think I let them all have individual practice with my serves?" 

Goshiki chuckled, a genuine little laugh. "Has anyone ever told you you're a little full of yourself?"

The smirk was fully back now as Atsumu answered him. "Oh but I'm toning it down for ya, Tsutomu. Don't push me."

"How much cockier can you get?"

"I don't know, maybe I'll show ya," Atsumu said and pushed himself off the wall, pinning Goshiki back into the wall with one hand when he tried to follow, "Same time tomorrow for extra practice, and we're gonna have to work on making you relax a little, you're all stiff," he said just as his hand moved from the middle of his chest to his shoulder, rubbing his muscles, fingertips pressing into all the right places.

"Where are you going?" Goshiki asked, tongue poking out to lick his lips.

"I'm going to shower. Ya need to ice your nose," Atsumu reminded, and his touch was gone when Goshiki raised the icepack back to his face. "See ya later, Tsutomu." He flashed his signature smile at him and walked backwards for a couple of steps down the hallway before he turned around, his silhouette disappearing after a few seconds.

Goshiki's eyes followed him until he was out of sight, and then some.

He'd been warned several times about Miya Atsumu.

But if there was one thing nobody told him to prepare for, it was flirting with him.


	2. 2

Goshiki was about to die. He was covered in sweat from jumping around and digging over and over again, his shoulders and knees were bruised like they had never been before, and he was exhausted. He had already played plenty of matches with five sets before where the intensity and the pressure were draining his body, but right now it was his spirit that took all of the blows. He didn't have a team to back him up.

Atsumu sent what felt like the hundredth serve his way. It looked like a jump serve, but Atsumu had tricked him more than once in the last thirty minutes, so he waited. He couldn't breathe, he was panting so hard he couldn't focus. He was right before, the ball went over the net in one fast powerful curve before floating over vaguely. A feint.

Goshiki dug forward, his chest sliding across the floor ungracefully as his arms extended and he tried to bump up the ball with a single fist. It went up, but barely. It hit the ground next to his head and he groaned, the sound ripped from deep into his chest, low and raspy.

He crawled up to his knees and looked up at the older boy, shaking his head. "I'll wipe that smirk off your face one way or another, do you realize that?"

Atsumu laughed at that, his head throwing back slightly as he paused on his way to pick up another stray ball. "Oooh," he teased, "Threatening me, now? Really?"

Goshiki ignored him in favor of wiping off his forehead with the back of his hand. His entire body was covered by a layer of sweat, and dread was sinking in his stomach, more painful in this instant than the strain in his muscles. 

He'd only been able to send back a dozen of Atsumu's serves, out of approximately thirty. And the boy in front of him barely even seemed tired. His movements were smooth, confident, reeking of experience. That was normal routine for him.

"Come on. Get up." Atsumu's voice left no room for discussion. Goshiki stood up and got into position.

He didn't bother wiping his knees off, they felt a little sensitive. Without the caps, they would have been bleeding for sure. 

Atsumu's eyes swept up and down, as if considering him. With his head slightly tilted back, his chin up and his eyes squinted in silent observation, he looked downright condescending. "Ya know yer not all that bad, Go-kun."

"Thanks," Tsutomu grunted, his raw voice dripping with sarcasm that Atsumu brushed off with a wave of his hand. 

"I just don't think yer trying hard enough here. Take a look at yer form. Yer obviously slacking off." Goshiki didn't have time to protest. Hurricane Atsumu continued, laid back and calculating. "And yer all tense again. I saw ya receive Tobio's serve earlier, it was pretty good. Is there something making ya nervous?" 

Yeah. You. 

"No, that's not it. I just uh...need more practice...", he paused to take a deep breath, "You're probably right. I should take a break and relax," he said and every single muscle in his body seemed to agree.

Atsumu hummed, long fingers manipulating the ball with ease. "I'll tell ya what. Receive the next serve, we can stop and I'll help ya out. If ya miss it, ya gotta do a hundred pushups." Goshiki swallowed. "While I clean up this mess," the older boy added in a mumble as he glanced around the room.

"You will...help me out?"

"Yeah, I did tell ya we'd work on relaxing yesterday, didn't I?"

"Oh Miya-san, thank you but I don't know if that's really necessary-" 

"I insist," Atsumu cut him off, lips curling back into a grin, "Believe me. I know some effective exercices. It'll give ya motivation to win. C'mon. Get in position."

Goshiki sighed and wiped his forehead one more time before settling in front of the net. He forced his knees to bend, felt the muscles in his thighs scream and clenched his jaw shut. Only one more.

He watched intently as the blonde boy sent another serve his way, no unnecessary movement in sight. Only pure and raw strength as he slammed the ball mid-air with all his force. 

Goshiki pressed his forearms together in front of himself, forced his thighs even further down and received. He heard the impact of the ball before he felt it. An awful smack against his arms before it flied back up almost perfectly. 

His eyes widened and a groan left his throat as the nerve endings in his forearms finally caught up with what just hit them. "Fuck..." As if his nose wasn't enough, that would bruise real nice.

..................

Goshiki's head was empty of thoughts.

After gloriously, although with a tint of mockery, congratulating him for his small win, Atsumu guided him through his stretches. That would've been embarrassing enough on its own, but the older boy decided that it would be useful to help him physically as well. He pushed his back down with the palm of his hand, stretched his leg further with a strong tug at the back of his knee, held him still with firm hands on his waist while he stretched his arms until they cracked, laying his competent fingers everywhere.

Goshiki sucked it up and kept his mouth shut, letting Atsumu "help him" how-ever he pleased. Although it was not without difficulty, because he could not think properly with Atsumu breathing down his neck. Whenever he thought he might finally be able to focus on what he was doing, Atsumu's voice was back in his ear to distract him. "Is this okay? Is that better? Doesn't that feel amazing?" 

None of them stepped over the invisible line that they had carefully drawn, but they both knew Atsumu was doing all of this on purpose. They both knew the reason behind it, that this was some kind of sick and innocent foreplay. 

That was proved even further when Atsumu finally cracked and asked Goshiki if he wanted to go up to his room with him so he could use essential oils.

Essential. Oils.

Goshiki almost refused. He probably would have if it had been anyone else, seeing how this was the most ridiculous pickup line he had ever heard someone use to drag him up into their bedroom. Not to mention they were teammates in a training camp. He didn't read the rules before coming in but he was pretty sure that going to another boy's room for a "private massage" was considered forbidden activity. This was not a good idea.

But it was Miya Atsumu asking. He was standing there in front of him, older, messy yellow hair brushing over his forehead in little spikes with what was left of his gel, black jersey on tan skin and clinging to broad shoulders, thighs and calves thick from the workout. Goshiki definitely wanted to see what he could do with essential oils.

He feigned hesitation for a moment, for the sake of his own amusement. The blonde was blunt, but Goshiki noticed that the way he approached him was interestingly...delicate.

"Oh but I'm toning it down for you, Tsutomu." He remembered those words from the day before. Atsumu really was being careful around him, tiptoeing around the words but never actually hitting on him straight on. He treated him like he was fragile, and that alone convinced him to take him up on his offer.

If Miya really thought Goshiki was just an innocent kid, maybe he would play around a little bit.

"I don't know...Won't you need it for later? I don't wanna ask too much of you." Forget the oil, do you have lube?

"Ya ain't askin', I'm offerin'. Go-kun," Atsumu leaned on his hip nonchalantly, "Don't ya wanna blow off some steam?"

"But uh...what if someone notices we're gone?" Is there some way we can keep your door locked? 

"No one will, they're all busy. Who cares, anyway? We're allowed to wander around. C'mon, say yes."

"...Fine." God, yes.

Atsumu looked pleased, and there was a beat of silence as he put the last stray ball in the cart. 

"Miya-san?"

"Yah?"

"I could give you a massage as well, if you'd like."

.................

"Are you sure your roommates won't be there?" He asked as they stood beside each other in the elevator leading to the common bedrooms. They weren't really bedrooms, more like empty spaces where they threw in seven futons each, and where the boys could sleep on during the annual training camps and such. Atsumu's assigned room was all the way down the hall, two doors away from Goshiki's.

"'Course I am. It's still early." Atsumu confirmed, but still threw a look over his shoulder when he turned the knob, quietly walking in after Tsutomu. He winced when the door creaked as he closed it, and Goshiki's lips curled into a grin. 

"There was no one there, I'm sure they didn't hear that from the first floor," he said before taking a quick look around. They were alone. "So which one's yours?"

"Oh, right there," Atsumu replied and vaguely waved his hand towards one of the futons in the middle. "Make yerself comfortable, I'll get my bag."

Goshiki assumed this was his cue to take his shirt off, so he did so as he walked. The air felt a little cold on his bare skin and he crossed his arms, pressing the shirt on his stomach as he sat down on Atsumu's futon, watching him pick up his backpack from the corner of the room. Atsumu pulled a small bottle out of it, and Goshiki was forced to admit that it was, in fact, essential oil.

"It might feel a little gross at first, I'm warnin' ya," the older boy murmured. He sat down behind Goshiki and poured a small amount of oil in the palm of his hand. 

Surely enough, the way the cool liquid dripped down his back when Atsumu brought his fingers to one of Tsutomu's shoulders was uncomfortable. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the older boy's touch instead. 

Like earlier, he was being delicate. His palm rubbed circles below his shoulder-blades to spread the oil, gentle as ever. His other hand followed shortly after to take care of the lower part of his back. His thumb caught a drop of the oil before it could drip on his futon, and then the rest of his fingers uncurled and started massaging. 

A soft sigh left Goshiki's lips. 

Atsumu continued without a sound. Now that the oil was evenly spread across Tsutomu's back, he could sink into it. His lower hand slowly started to run up and down the boy's spine, the tip of his middle finger feeling each curve as it pressed here and there. His other hand, a little less patient, a little more tender, rubbed Goshiki's shoulders with ease. They were tense still, maybe because Goshiki was still anxious, but they noticeably relaxed as Atsumu's palm and fingers worked on them. 

"You're good at this," Goshiki slurred, his voice just above a whisper. 

"Yeah?"

Goshiki's response was a simple nod. With his eyes closed, the massage had taken an unpredictable turn. With Atsumu's hands rubbing his muscles just right and the essential oil's flowery scent filling his nostrils, his mind grew hazy. "Hey, can you do my neck?" He asked, and another heavy sigh followed as Atsumu executed himself immediately. 

His thumb pressed into the middle of his nape, and it was like all the tension in Goshiki's body dropped on its command. His head even lolled a little bit, and he had to bite his lip to keep from making an embarrassing sound. If Atsumu noticed this, he didn't comment on it, and his fingers went on and on...and on.

They ran all over his back, pressed, stroked, rubbed restlessly. 

Goshiki had absolutely no idea how long it had been when Atsumu finally stilled and took his hands off of him, but he felt a ting of disappointment. He opened his eyes, swallowed back the whine in his throat and gave his shoulders an experimental roll. "Wow...So you..You really know how to do this.."

Atsumu chuckled behind him and when Goshiki turned around to look at him, he was pouring a little bit of water in his hands and wiping them off with a couple pieces of paper towels. "I'm assuming this means ya liked it?" He asked with a grin, eyebrow raising in that pretentious way of his. Goshiki didn't mind.

"Yeah, thanks a lot, Miya-san."

Atsumu's eyes rolled, "Miya-san? Really? Ya don't think that's too formal?"

Goshiki looked between the older boy's eyes and a grin curled up on his lips as he corrected himself, "Thanks a lot, Atsumu."

Atsumu seemed more satisfied with this, a genuine smile settling on his face as he put away the oil in his backpack. Goshiki, for the life of him, didn't understand why the blonde still hadn't made the first move. 

He took a deep breath.

Come on, Tsutomu, you're seventeen, you're not a pussy. 

"So uh...It probably won't be as good as yours but...I can try to give you one too..if you want."

Hazel eyes glowed excitedly.

"I won't say no to that," Atsumu said, hastily taking his jersey off. He pulled it over his head, and Goshiki's eyes fell on his lower stomach before Atsumu had the chance to turn around and hide the view. It was too quick, but his brain definitely registered the sight of a happy trail. His mouth dried. 

"So, uh, no oil is okay with you, right?"

Atsumu's shoulders twitched upwards in a silent laugh. "'Course, Go-kun, I couldn't care less."

"Okay. Here goes."

Goshiki cleared his throat and put his hands on his own cheeks first to make sure they were warm enough. Then he tried to imitate Atsumu.

His fingers found Atsumu's shoulders first and curled around them, his thumbs rubbing large circles into the sore muscles. He dragged the rest of his fingers up towards Atsumu's neck, stroking that particular spot where his shoulders and neck met. He did not know how any of that felt, but Atsumu was quiet and looked rather relaxed, so he figured it was good enough.

He continued for about a minute, before his hands trailed lower. He followed the curve of Atsumu's back and ran his fingertips along his spine like the blonde had done to him earlier. He heard a soft sigh and licked his lips. That worked, apparently.

He massaged the blonde's back further, rubbing circles with his palm over the tan skin. He could feel the muscles underneath his touch, still tense from their training program and silently hoped this would help. 

Silence drew on and Goshiki gathered his courage. He stilled his fingers after a bit, sat up from his heels to be on his knees instead, leaned forward, and pressed a single kiss on the back of Atsumu's neck. He heard his breath hitch, and there was a second where none of them moved or made a sound before Atsumu's head tilted to the side, shoulders slumping in invitation.

Tsutomu's hands moved and settled around the setter's waist, sliding up and down slowly as he closed the distance between his lips and Atsumu's skin for the second time. He peppered the back of his left shoulder with quick and soft kisses, which turned languid when he reached the crook of his neck. There, he slowed down. 

He parted his lips and took the blonde's earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently. Atsumu sighed again, louder, and if Goshiki was paying closer attention, he would have noticed the way his fingers gripped the futon on either side of him. 

He inhaled in Atsumu's neck and laid open-mouthed kisses down that particular vein popping out, tongue massaging the soft skin.

"Go-kun," Atsumu breathed out, and Goshiki hummed against his neck, a low sound. The blunt of his teeth dragged along the line of his shoulder, and Atsumu visibly shivered. Suddenly, he reached behind him, his fingers threading through the hair on the back of Goshiki's neck.

Atsumu turned around in the gentle grip around his waist and faced the dark haired boy, pleased to see that his eyes were half lidded, gaze flickering back between Atsumu's eyes and his lips. "That was bold of ya...," he murmured, and that was the last thing he managed to say before their lips smashed together.

Goshiki felt Atsumu's fingers on him again and yearned. They were in his neck, in his hair, on his jaw, his ribs and his chest. It felt so satisfying after the last couple of days of barely there touches, he could have moaned. The older boy's tongue parted his lips, twirled in his mouth, down his throat. Goshiki crawled on his knees with a breathy moan until their chests were pressed against one another. 

He threw his arms around Atsumu's neck and locked him there, as if to make sure he wouldn't get away. Atsumu tasted like mint and candy and like a boy.

They continued to make out slowly and hungrily, biting each other's lips on every break. Goshiki felt starved and parched all at once as he devoured Atsumu raw. 

Atsumu separated from the kiss, early, way too early, and Goshiki tried to chase the desired lips only to get pushed down into the futon easily and straddled. Atsumu's head was buried in his neck, mouth already working. Blunt teeth attacked the skin beneath his jawline and Goshiki gasped in a breath, his fingers closing around a messy chunk of blonde hair. 

Atsumu was biting his way down Goshiki's neck and if one of his hands kept the boy's chin tilted up, firm fingers sprayed across his jaw, the other one was dipping dangerously lower, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. It stopped around Goshiki's inner thigh and pushed, spreading the boy's legs so he could comfortably lie in between them. 

His tongue swept across the pink bud of Tsutomu's nipple and the younger boy mewled, pulling Atsumu's head up with a harsh tug on his hair. "Ow ow ow, easy..", Atsumu chuckled, taking note of that sensitive spot. He kissed the nipple softly, looking up at Tsutomu apologetically before continuing. 

His lips had a mind of their own and trailed all over Goshiki's torso, brushing over his pecs, kissing his waist and stealing a moan from the younger boy when they reached his bellybutton. Goshiki's fingers were making a terrible mess of his hair. Atsumu found that he couldn't care less.

Before long, Atsumu was sitting up and tugging Tsutomu's shorts off. The boy showed absolutely no resistance, lifting his hips off the ground and meeting Atsumu's eyes with his own dark ones, hands falling down to the older's waist. 

Atsumu's palm wasted no time grabbing the other's crotch through his pair of briefs, and it only took one light squeeze for Tsutomu's eyes to drift away from his, cheeks flushing as he let out a little "Mmm..." Atsumu smirked. 

Goshiki's hips were back down on the futon, rocking back, his eyes on Atsumu's fingers. Atsumu rubbed the front of his underwear and trailed his free hand to his chest. His thumb brushed over the boy's nipple curiously, earning him a harsh hiss from Tsutomu who grabbed his wrist. His dick twitched under Atsumu's palm.

Atsumu stilled his hand on the boy's chest and let his fingers spread across it, feeling his warmth, just laying there as he worked him to full hardness. He looked at him, the dark hair splayed around his face, his fringe an ink-like disarray on his forehead, his eyes cast downwards too shy to acknowledge Atsumu's presence, his pink cheekbones, bruised-up nose, full lips that parted slowly. The angel was about to speak.

"You too," Goshiki whispered and let go of Atsumu's wrist to tug at his shorts, thumbs hooking underneath the waistband. That's when Atsumu's long fingers lifted the boy's chin.

"Look at me, first," he demanded, pausing his ministrations as well when they both gazed at each other for a moment. Charcoal met smoky quartz. One was still perfectly composed, the other a little breathless. Different, strangers, intimate all the same. "Yer pretty," Atsumu admitted quietly.

All Goshiki could do was draw in a deep breath as the older boy's hand picked up again, stroking him through the fabric. With Atsumu's eyes on him in addition to his hand moving down there, he felt heat spreading all over his body. He decidedly pushed down Atsumu's shorts down to his thighs, and rubbed him slowly in return. He couldn't keep in the moan that bubbled in his throat as the other's palm pressed harder against his crotch, his hips twitching up instantly.

Atsumu was already hard and Goshiki easily wrapped his fingers around the outline of his cock through his underwear to give a long stroke. Then he slipped his fingers into Atsumu's boxers and grabbed his dick properly at the base. The way the blonde's jaw dropped and eyelashes fluttered in response was delicious.

"Miya-san...Atsumu..I want more..."

"Yeah, okay, yea," Atsumu nodded slowly and huffed as he propped an elbow next to Tsutomu's head, using his free hand to take off the rest of their clothes, his first, and then Goshiki's. They were both hard and panting. The desire to just drop some of his body weight and start rubbing their hips together was making Atsumu's skin crawl. Fuck, he wasn't even sure how far they could go. 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Goshiki's neck, then his jawline and his cheek before he spoke softly, "Hey, I've got some condoms and lube, if ya wanna..."

The boy beneath him nodded his head, his left leg riding up to rest upon Atsumu's hip "Yeah, I'd love to," he answered. The tips of their dicks grazed and both of them shuddered in sync. "I'd really love to," Goshiki added, voice strained.

"Are ya sure?," Atsumu asked gently, his arm already extending to reach into his bag and feel around for his lube and condoms. "I'll go slow."

His hand curled around a familiar square of foil and plastic bottle, but it paused as he saw the deep blush spread across Goshiki's cheeks. Aside from the raging color, the boy didn't look the least embarrassed. He looked amused, teeth biting back a smile. Atsumu's eyebrow twitched. "What is it?"

"Atsumu-san, do you think I'm a virgin?"

"I, uh, ya, erm..", Atsumu said intelligently. 

Goshiki's arms around his neck pulled him a little lower. "Are you?"

Images of Kita Shinsuke clouded Atsumu's mind for a bit. They dated for about a year and had never gone below the belt. His silence was answer enough apparently, because Goshiki raised his head to kiss the corner of his lips. "That's fine, just uh...Go slow if you need to...That's okay."

That's okay? Atsumu was a lot of things, good looking, talented, funny, always humble, but he was not mediocre. He was not okay. He was amazing. He was a seventeen year old boy on top of an athlete. And because most seventeen year old boys on top of athletes were simple-minded, Atsumu rolled his hips down against Goshiki's, dicks touching in a fire hot stroke. "If ya like fast, I can give ya fast," he replied, pulling the bottle and the square of foil out of his gym bag. 

Goshiki raised an eyebrow, but seemed pleased as he watched Atsumu lube his fingers up, his legs spreading wide in invitation. He wasn't lying before when he said the dark haired boy was pretty. Unfortunately, in his daze of wanting to be the best sex Goshiki had ever had, Atsumu did not take the time to admire the length of his body, his fingers already probing the boy's hole.

He had done this to himself before but this was entirely different. He hesitated one second, but Goshiki let out a little sigh that made up his mind. He slid in one finger in the tight heat, swallowing hard. His dick was supposed to fit in there. He pushed it down to his knuckle and then paused. When he did it to himself, that was usually when he tried to relax. Goshiki's eyes were shut and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he breathed in and out slowly.

Atsumu kissed his forehead gently, and then his mouth, and his neck. He wished he could suck a hickey on his skin, but that was obviously out of question, so he settled for flicking his tongue back and forth below his ear. "You can move now," Goshiki breathed out, hips shifting slightly. 

Atsumu curled his finger before moving it in and out of Goshiki, who was breathing noticeably heavier, little by little. His ear was so close to his mouth, he could hear every little hitch. 

He added a second finger after giving Goshiki a while to adjust and Goshiki mewled, his head tilting back. "Yeah?" Atsumu murmured, the boy below him nodding quickly. 

He fingered him steadily, setting a nice rhythm now that Goshiki was relaxed against his futon. He pulled his face back from the crook of his neck to look at him, watching his reactions with parted lips. He had never been able to reach that special place while alone but...maybe from this angle..

He spread his fingers inside, stretching the boy out, before curling them. One way, then another, with a little twist, until-

"Unngh..." Goshiki's eyes flew open, his fingers threading through the hair in the back of Atsumu's head, slipping in his undercut. 

There it is. 

Atsumu watched with quiet fascination as Goshiki's face twisted into an indescribable expression of pleasure every time he so much as bumped into that spot. He moaned freely, his hips grinding back down on Atsumu’s fingers.

Atsumu was getting hard again.

"Hey," he started, then cleared his throat when he realized how hoarse his voice was, "Hey, Tsutomu. Ya think yer ready?" Another kiss in the boy's neck. 

He thrusted deep and spread his fingers again, just to make sure, and Goshiki's nails nearly scraped his scalp. "Yeah...'M good.."

"Okay," Atsumu exhaled and took his fingers out, little by little.

God, he felt so hot he could shiver, the burning warmth concentrating in the base of his dick as he slid the condom on and slicked it up with lube.

Goshiki's legs were spread wide enough that he could easily settle in between them. He glanced up at Tsutomu, busy nibbling on his bottom lip in anticipation and then looked down at their bodies. He took a hold of his cock and guided it until all he had to do was swing his hips forward.

And then all there was was heat. Overwhelmingly tight heat. His hand slapped the ground on the other side of Goshiki's head, whose lips parted immediately. They let out twin groans when Atsumu bottomed out. Atsumu didn't know what to think, he knew he wasn't supposed to move yet, was he? He needed to let Goshiki adjust. Oh God, Goshiki. 

Goshiki's legs had wrapped their way around Atsumu's waist, keeping him still. Atsumu's eyes were wide open. There was so much heat around him. Such a warm body against his....around his... "Oh, it's good," he grunted out. He couldn't wait to feel that again, that delicious moment when Tsutomu's rim caught his dick and then pulled him in.

Goshiki hummed in satisfaction, fingers threading through Atsumu's blonde hair, as he focused on loosening his body. Atsumu's dick wasn't enormous, but still sufficiently big that it comfortably stretched him inside. Goshiki reveled in the feeling. His entire body had been worked to exhaustion during practice, and the fact that this particular muscle wasn't an exception almost made him grin. That was his favorite exercise of the day. Here, laying down, with Miya Atsumu's cock stuffed inside of him. 

He shifted his hips once, twice, his eyes running up and down Atsumu's face as Atsumu gasped, and relaxed his legs. "You can move," he murmured. And move, Atsumu did.

Atsumu gave another tentative thrust before slamming his hips onto Goshiki's, who barely managed to bite down a yelp. 

Goshiki's eyes fluttered as the rhythmical sound of Atsumu's hips slapping against his ass suddenly invaded his brain like fog. He was pounding into him, fast, and no amount of self control could keep Goshiki from moaning out. 

Atsumu seemed to be in his own bubble of bliss, his eyes hard and jaw clenched as he braced himself over Goshiki and rocked forward. Soft grunts erupted from his closed lips every time he bottomed out, mixing with Tsutomu's low moans.

They kept at it for a couple of minutes, the frantic movements of their bodies leaving both of them panting. Goshiki's eyes followed Atsumu as the older boy paused, his lips parting to let a displeased whine to fall out, but Atsumu beat him to it as he wrapped his fingers around the back of his knee and lifted it up until it was pressed next to his chest. 

Goshiki was sure that the noise he made when Atsumu plunged back inside of him after that would have been embarrassing if Atsumu's warm lips hadn't shut him up completely. Atsumu's dick had just hit his prostate right on, and he keened, his back arching up wantonly.

Atsumu's firm grip held Goshiki's thigh still as he started moving in and out of him again, his tongue slipping past his lips and roaming around his mouth it was his due. Goshiki was helpless to do anything but trail his fingers down from soft locks to sturdy shoulders, his nails digging in the setter's skin to let him know how much he liked it. How good it was.

"More...Harder...Harder.." Goshiki repeated against the older boy's lips, his back settling back down on the futon with one of Atsumu's harsh thrusts. All of his nerve endings were on fire, and a familiar heat bloomed in the bottom of his stomach as Atsumu's cock reached places inside of him he'd forgotten even existed. He was panting now, and Atsumu's tongue swallowed that too.

The setter was just as bad on top of him, his movements more and more frantic with each of Goshiki's pleads to go harder.

Goshiki's fingers on his back paused when Atsumu adjusted his hips before slamming his cock back inside of him, and the boy threw his head back in pleasure, clawing at Atsumu's back even harder. Atsumu grunted.

Goshiki was moaning again after two seconds of being away from Atsumu's lips, so the older quickly went back to sealing his mouth shut with a bruising kiss. The noises made him pleasantly dizzy, but he still knew where some of his priorities lay. Goshiki didn't seem to mind, his thigh twitching underneath Atsumu's fingers as he sucked on the older's tongue eagerly.

Shit.

He moved his free hand down between their bodies and felt around Goshiki's stomach before gripping his dick and giving it a long stroke. Goshiki's head threatened to throw back again as he moaned but Atsumu didn't let him get too far, his lips slightly catching the line of his jaw before they smashed back against his.

It wasn't long before Goshiki's breath quickened and the boy began to tremble. Fingertips reaching for Atsumu's hair again, he raised his hips off the bed before his whole body stilled all at once. There was a choked up whine that shook Atsumu to the core and then Goshiki was coming into his fist, his orgasm washing over him. 

Atsumu wished he could pull back to watch him and hear him moan but he continued to kiss him vigorously as he pumped and fucked him through it. Quiet and passionate. He only let himself part from the boy when the body underneath him had relaxed, and the sight left his mouth dry.

If Goshiki had looked beautiful before, now he was positively gorgeous. Technically, his appearance was debauched. His ink colored bangs sticked to his forehead, probably due to the sweat that was running all the way down his neck. His lips were raw and wet, parted as he worked on regaining his breath. His bruised up nose was so ridiculous with the way he was blushing right now, his cheeks red and bright. Atsumu couldn't believe he was the cause of this. 

His hips staggered as their eyes met and Goshiki took his bottom lip between his teeth. "Sh-should I pull out?"

"No...", Goshiki's voice was no louder than a whisper, "Keep going. Atsumu."

"Fuck, 'kay...ngh.." Atsumu spluttered as he picked up the pace again. 

It felt good not having to care exactly where he was hitting anymore. He just let himself do what felt good, his hips thrusting freely in a hurry to bury his cock back in that warm and tight place, over and over again.

His now dirty hand slammed back next to Goshiki's head. The heat at the bottom of his stomach spread, lower and lower until he could feel it pooling in his dick. "Oh...oh...oh..oh..." 

His dick pulsed a second before his orgasm. He buried his face into Goshiki's neck and let the heat flow through his body, feeling it in his arms, in the muscles of his back, all the way down to his toes that curled in pleasure. All for a few blissful seconds before all that was left was pure satisfying exhaustion. 

Atsumu thought he heard Goshiki hum softly as he nuzzled his shoulder with his nose, his upper-body going completely lax. 

"Wow.." Atsumu muttered, earning another hum from Goshiki, who was starting to sound amused. He was suddenly a little worried. Had it not been good for him? What if he’d been clumsy, or ridiculous, or both? What if he’d been boring? What if he turned out to be Goshiki’s worst experience?

"That was amazing," the dark-haired boy said, interrupting his thoughts. He was still a little breathless, but his content tone put Atsumu at ease.

He peaked his head out from Goshiki’s shoulder. "Yeah. Shit. It really was."

He pulled out and rolled over to lay next to the other boy, the cold floor against his scratched skin making him hiss slightly. Dry cum was still staining his hand, his back was stinging, the used condom was still on his dick, but he didn’t feel like moving at all.

He turned his head, only to find that Tsutomu was already looking at him. They chuckled the second they made eye contact, and Atsumu was grateful. The silence was getting a bit too heavy. 

"Hey, Tsutomu, coule I have yer number?"

"Yeah, sure. That’d be cool."

Cool.

Cool cool cool.

Atsumu nodded once and let his eyes drift back up to the ceiling, hoping Goshiki wouldn’t see him blush. He took a deep breath. 

After practice was really cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not satisfied with this, to be fair. But it’s been like two months so...Here goes nothing!  
> At least it’s finished and posted.  
> Thank you for reading this far! All the love,  
> -E

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing anything to be honest, so I have no idea what this is worth. I hope it’s readable, I’ve wanted to give this rare pair a try, because I love them both. If this sucks, I hope that at least it’ll give one of you talented people the desire to pick up your pen and give Atsutomu some justice. A girl can dream...
> 
> Also, I know this is not at all how the Youth training camp works. But lets just pretend for the sake of this little fic.
> 
> P.S. Thank you for reading this far.


End file.
